Unknown Agents: Alaska - Revisited
by TryforFirstTry
Summary: Out of fifty individuals chosen for the Freelancer Project, very few have stories you know. It's about time that you learn about some of the others who dedicated their lives, and more, for the Director and his greater good. [Revisited Fic from 2015]
1. Alaska

_Tap tap_.

Alaska sighed into her sheets and lazily swatted at her shoulder.

"Wakey-wakey," chirped a voice at her back.

She retaliated by burrowing further into her sheets. Soft. Warm. Whatever time it was, it was too early to wrench her from her cocoon of blankets.

"Allie!"

While perhaps she couldn't be pulled out of her bed, she could certainly be _pushed_ off of it. She landed with a cushioned _thump!_ and groaned. She squinted up at the figure chuckling down at her.

"I'm going to _strangle _you, Del."

He shrugged. "At least treat me to dinner and a movie first. Assuming we're alive by the end of the week, that is."

Alaska stretched out of her blanket-burrito as Delaware showed himself the exit. She dragged herself over to her metal closet to begrudgingly abandon her pajamas in exchange for her standard-issue kevlar suit. If she could walk around in her fleece jammies all day, she would. Perhaps she would suggest dress-down friday to staff sometime.

She gave the dog tags hanging in the closet a little tap, smiling at the jingle. She lumbered out of the door, only to receive a playful shove to the shoulder. The body belonging to it just so happened to be the same mischievous chocolate-eyed, tawny-haired man who had woken her.

"You're it," he trilled.

"In your dreams." Alaska clapped his shoulder as she began her way through the labyrinthine halls of The Mother of Invention with a battle of "you're it"s trailing behind her and Delaware. She was half-certain that they left anyone in their path to the canteen groaning.

"Allie!"

Shortly after entering the room, Alaska found her arms pinned in a strict hug. Long black hair hung over her shoulder like a curtain while its owner giggled with her constrictor-like vice.

"Hi, Nessie."

Tennessee slipped off of her. A lithe woman with a gentle pair of dark almond eyes and - surprisingly long - straight, black hair. She gave Del a brief hug and tugged them over to a sparsely populated table.

"_Finally_," grunted a fully-suited man. "Tenn has been _dying_ waiting for you two."

Another man, a strawberry-blonde whose navy eyes twinkled, gave him a sharp whack to the shoulder. "Shut up, why don't you. It's a big thing for her. Not all of us got to have our own-"

The armored soldier hit him back. "Well don't _spoil_ it."

Delaware rolled his eyes. "I keep saying we need to get these two a room, but nobody ever listens to me."

"Shut up," the two snapped simultaneously. Alaska rolled her eyes and sat herself opposite of the suitless man. Tennessee slammed her hands on the table, leaning between the other four parties.

Tennessee spoke low. "_Guess what_!" She sucked in a breath, not waiting for a reply before blurting, "I'm getting an A.I.!"

She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, practically dancing. It was clumsy, but happy. It made Alaska chuckle while she rested her head on her hand. Nessie's frolic even wormed a laugh out of the man in armor.

Alaska grinned at him. "She's gonna be like you, West."

West scoffed and removed his helmet. He shook his head, loosening his dark hair. "I still don't have my A.I._yet_, you know; I'm just on the list…." His voice trailed off with pride, a tone which the gleam in his bright silver eyes confirmed.

"I'm just on the list," parroted the man next to him. "_No big deal, I just get a high-end piece of technology_~!"

West's pale face flushed at the cheeks. "Hawaii," he hissed.

Hawaii laid a hand over his chest. "_Me_?"

"Really, I don't see why they can't at least get their own _closet_."

Alaska stood, flicking Nessie's hair as she walked past her. She returned with a small breakfast to Del and Nessie watching Hawaii groaning in defeat from the armored headlock West had him in. The other three chatted and ate over the finishing squabble until they all fell silent. A buzz came from the speakers. West released Hawaii, who now crossed his fingers. He was either hoping the be included in a mission, or hoping to not be included in a new reprimanding. Alaska rolled her eyes and picked at her muffin; why would the director ever call on somebody other than his favorites?

"_Agents Kansas, Hawaii, West Virginia, Alaska_-" she choked, spraying crumbs onto the table "-_Tennessee, and Delaware are to report to the Briefing Room ASAP._"

Hawaii's eyes were wide with shock and sparkling. Tennessee seemed confused. Even West's sunken eyes betrayed his sense of interest. Del grinned.

"About time we got something again. Allie, can you go get Kan once you're done choking?"

"_That's what she said_!" Nessie exclaimed.


	2. Assignment

Alaska cleared her throat of the last dry crumbs as she treaded through the Mother's path to the training room. Del had said Kansas stayed behind when he said goodbye to wake Alaska.

She peered in through the glass lining the giant circular grounds to find them empty. Locker rooms, perhaps. Sure enough, sounds of laughter drifted out of the door to the approaching Alaska's ears. She knocked and, without waiting for a response, swung the door open.

A short, thin man with tan skin was pulling his wavy hair into a ponytail and chuckling. His freckles almost danced with how his face moved.

"Keep looking for it," he crooned, "you'll find it eventually."

Alaska jumped as a living mountain emerged before her from the other side of the lockers; a massive man clad in white armor with orange accents. She could feel his glare boring Kansas into ribbons all the way through his bald head. She shrank until he passed, then went to her locker. She hastily pulled her armor on.

"Kan," she squeaked. "You've been called. Director."

Kansas sighed theatrically. "Al_right_, jeez." He ducked under the massive arm of Maine, who was now wearing his helmet. His body swerved to avoid another bat from the giant, and he dove around Alaska before Maine could do anything about it. Alaska slammed the door shut.

"He's gonna kill you one of these days, you know."

"He's gonna kill _all of us_ one of these days."

"You'll be the first." Alaska gripped the back of Kansas' chestplate only for him to squirm out immediately.

He puffed himself up with his arms outstretched and dangling. He lowered his voice to a gravelly snarl. "Grr, I'm big and scary and don't talk." He stamped through the hall.

"Ah, I didn't know you were suicidal. Can you save it for when we're through whatever the Director assigned us? I'd prefer to have a full six instead of just five in the party."

He scoffed. "Since when does he send out agents that don't reach his precious board out on anything important, anyway? It's probably just patrol."

"We love you too," snapped West from the door to the briefing room. His dark teal and silver armor couldn't hide his slouched, tired posture. Nor could his helmet hide his scowl.

Hawaii tutted from behind his dark blue helmet. The orange accents shone with his shaking head. "You poor thing. Do you need a Midol?"

"I have some," Tennessee offered sweetly.

West huffed, but was interrupted before he could retort by the briefing room's door opening. Del , in full suit apart from his helmet, beckoned for them to enter. His face was blank as he saw them all inside. It flawlessly mirrored that of the Director and the Counsellor. One of the first things you learned in the Freelancer Program was that you were to shut your mouth and listen, and bitch - or make the wrong faces - later if you had to. An unspoken but universal rule that could land you ditched on a shit-end job if broken.

The Director's crystalline green eyes glowed even in the bright blue lights behind him. They were simultaneously angry and empty. His expression paired with his gray-flecked hair and beard made him look not unlike a stern father.

He greeted them with a cold, "Agents."

The Counsellor began.

"There has been suspicious activity, possibly insurrectionist, in a small canyon city on Reverb."

Alaska shot Del a small face. Concern would be the best word to describe her current emotion. It's not like it was undeserved; there were rumors about of a small team who hadn't been seen in quite some time being captured.

The Counsellor had an uncanny knack of pulling information out of your own head.  
"You may have heard that some of our agents have been taken into custody."

The Director grimaced - more than he usually was, anyway. "We are disappointed to say that this is true."

This time, Alaska caught Del giving _her _a subtle look. Eyebrows raised, mouth tight. Not much, but enough to get the message through, and little enough to be distracted from by the hologram that appeared on the large desk before them.

The hologram outlined the craggy walls of a canyon. Buildings littered the bottom; like a little town, but not quite. Two dots - one green and one orange - blinked along one of the crevices.

"Where Agents Alabama and Colorado were last seen." The Director gestured toward them. "We have been unable to retrieve many audio logs; the ones we have indicate their capture. Their equipment has very likely been heavily tampered with by now."

Hawaii leaned in. "Nothing special about that cave mouth?"

Alaska squinted to where he was pointing. There was, indeed, an entrance to a cave just behind the dots.

"That is where our agents were camping. And where we infer their last _understandable_ audio logs occured."

Hawaii nodded and tapped the side of his helmet. Just taking a picture; a nifty little piece of his equipment, well-suited for his scouting job.

"Your job is to perform reconnaissance and, at the very least, locate Alabama or Colorado, though we would prefer that you retrieve both." The Counsellor's voice was plain and unaffected. "Acquire long-distance viewing equipment and weapons. Ensure your armor is in working order. Then head to the hangar. Your pilot will be 3-3-9."

The Director scowled at the agents lined before him. Finally, he drawled, "Dismissed."

The group shuffled out amongst their own little whispers that snuck around the clunk of their heavy armored boots.


	3. Takeoff

"Can you _believe _it? After all this time!" Del was grinning from ear to ear.

"It's been a while since we all went as a unit," agreed West.

Hawaii scoffed. "Yeah, it's mostly _just you_ going out."

West and Hawaii's conversations dissolved into a new match of bickering under the rest of the group's talk. Checklists, supplies, Reverb, the target, Colorado, Alabama.

Alaska's face scrunched as they entered the hangar, to which Kansas chortled.

"I can't believe a _marine_ like you is scared of flying."

"I am not!"

"Of course you aren't; you just experience high amounts of anxiety while flying."

It really wasn't like she was afraid of flying; in fact, she loved being airborne. A closer description was that the descent scared her. Crashes were nasty.

"Break it up," groaned Del.

"I'll break _something_, alright," spat Hawaii.

It never ceased to amaze Alaska just how in the world they were matched to be an effective unit.

Del lowered his voice. "People are staring, assholes."

Indeed they were. A band of soldiers in power-armor fighting _was_ usually an entertaining spectacle. Even to others clad in power-armor. West cleared his throat and took lead of the group, rushing - in the most polite way possible - to their Pelican.

The pilot in front of Pelican-3-3-9 cradled a bundle of sniper rifles in his arms, clearly relieved to see people to relieve his load. West plucked a pair from the pile and took it inside the Pelican.

"Give him a hand," he barked. He was clearly trying to play off the embarrassment of his team's bout. Alaska could feel the heat radiating from his flushed face feet away. The group followed his instruction, each liberating a pair of rifles from 3-3-9. Soon enough, twelve total sniper rifles lay in the cabin along with their usual firearms.

"Equipment check," belted West. "Examine your scopes and ensure your armor and firearms are fully functional."

As they finished, 3-3-9 vaulted himself into the cramped cabin, closing the door behind him. He exchanged words with West before stepping into the cockpit with him.

Hawaii invited himself to a seat and pressed a button on his helmet. "So rocky," he muttered.

Tennessee sat beside him. "Doesn't look ideal for scouting," she concurred.

He seemed to puff up at this. "The grounds are never just _ideal_ for scouting," he snapped incredulously.

Alaska joined in. "Resourcefulness is a very important part of scouting _and_ recon, Nessie. Improvisation is a must in many cases."

Hawaii nodded with folded arms. Their similar field of work was the most they agreed on. The least that they could find to argue about, anyway.

West emerged from the cockpit fiddling with his helmet. "Grab a seat and secure your harnesses."

Alaska sat between Del and West, whose head was now in his hands. She patted his arm. He looked up long enough to give her a weak thumbs-up.

3-3-9's stilted voice floated from the speakers. "Everyone is buckled?"

"Affirmative," West responded. "Good to go."

Without another word, the metal hatch beneath the Pelican slid open with a clean hiss, and Alaska watched through the miniscule panel as the Mother of Invention was lifted out of sight by the velvet black of space.

_Ding._ An indicator of a soon shift in engine. Alaska could have purred as she was pressed into her seat by a new wave of gravity. Kansas lurched across from her.

"I hate that so much," he muttered.

"Remember the first time when that happened?" teased Nessie.

"My sister won't let me live it down."

"It was _everywhere_."

3-3-9 came back on over the speaker. "Been briefed, yes? Reverb, Chant Quadrant. The locals report suspicious activity that lines up with some of our data. Two agents captured. And we also have reason to believe there is a band of mercenaries working with the group."

Alaska's gaze shot to Del while Kan, Hawaii, And Nessie muttered. West nodded, his head once again barely supported in his hands.


	4. Arrival

Alaska jerked awake at the nudging of Del.

"Allie, you really need to start going to bed earlier."

She sighed and lifted her helmet over her head. She shook her fluffy hair loose before rubbing her eyes.

"I went to sleep at ten," she whined.

She relaxed into her seat, cradling her helmet in her lap. She closed her eyes and groaned.

West gave her a shove as he paced through the spacious hall of the cabin. She kicked at his calf in return, which he accepted. He continued his circuit and Alaska rested her head against her seat once more, staring blankly into the stray tufts of hair floating in front of her face. Not a lot else to do; the rest of the team was too tense to speak much. She tucked her hair away from her face to watch West's walk to nowhere. Something pinched her neck as she looked around the cabin. She hissed and reached for it, a chain emerging with her fingers.

One of the dogtags she owned, different from those that hung in her closet. "_Darius Ryan, UNSC_". Her father's. Declared incapable of service during the Human-Covenant War. She possessed one, and her brother possessed another. She grimaced at the thought of him. He was drafted to what she now knew were Simulation Troopers for the very program she belonged to. Certainly, there were worse fates, but….

3-3-9's voice came over the speakers, interrupting Alaska's thoughts. "We will land in less than ten minutes." Everyone's heads perked up a bit. "If you require a team for emergency backup, radio the Mother of Invention. You know the drill; the confirmation code is G26KL1. If you use it once, it can't be used again."

Alaska recited the series in her mind. G26KL1... G26KL1... G26KL1….

Tennessee slumped. She wasn't the best with things like codes, but she would sooner walk into enemy fire than dare write one down again. It only took one instance of that mistake for her to learn her lesson; most mistakes that resulted in the Director shouting you down did. He was hoarse for days.

West stopped in his lap as he passed her and patted her shoulder.

"It'll be alright, Tenn. We probably won't need it."

"Famous last words," Hawaii mumbled. A nervous chuckle wormed out from Del.

Alaska secured her helmet over her head, double-checking her functions. West retreated to the cockpit once more until the Pelican shuddered with the soft rumble of landing. They promptly exited once the harnesses released them. Sniper rifles in-hand, the five stared out at the mountainous crags of Reverb for the first time:

Bright moss peppered the brown canyon walls. Tall, stiff grasses stuck up between crags. Exotic plants speckled with white flowers decorated the places where vines didn't stream down the rocky slopes. Little birds nested on the opposite canyon wall. Their chirps were one of few things that broke the tranquil silence.

"Something's wrong? On _this _planet?" Kansas sounded like he was trying to fool himself.

"What a ray of sunshine you are," Hawaii crooned. He squatted at the nearest ledge and raised his rifle to his eyes, chatting to himself.

West joined the group, depositing something on the ground behind him. "You seeing the base?"

"Yes-"

"Where?"

"_Because we landed in an area where we could be seen doing so_."

"Zip it."

"Kan, you may have a rival for biggest ray of sunshine."

"How do we wanna get down there?" Del asked. Hawaii and West looked over to him.

"Small groups," proposed West. "Three of two or two of three."

Tennessee nodded. "We only have two people who have good experience in scouting, so maybe two groups would work better."

"Don't you think threes might stand out a bit?" Kansas asked.

"Not to mention," Hawaii said, "scouting and recon don't call for the same conditions. I think you should give your scout more protection."

Del thought for a second. "How about a group of four and a pair? Three people to help the scout, and a smaller party for the recon. Larger party that can split from the scout to draw attention if we need to."

The party seemed satisfied with this. They performed a radio check as they split into their units: Hawaii, Kansas, Delaware, and Tennessee in one, and West with Alaska. She far from minded this setup; she needed to have a word with him.

West grabbed the items he'd dropped before. Lengths of thick rope bundled into halos, adorned with hooks. Prime for scaling rocky walls. He handed them out to each soldier.

"Stick to the crevices. We're trying _not_ to be noticed."

"We're heading East," Hawaii instructed. "I'll radio coordinates if needed. Private channel."

* * *

Alaska pressed herself against the canyon wall with a stifled gasp. Little rocks fell to their demise as she repositioned her foot. She clung to a little crack with one hand, shouldering her sniper rifle with the other. She lifted the scope to her eyes, scanning the area.

"Anything?" hissed West. He was fastened to a little shady fissure, readying his rope for a new throw.

Nothing suspicious she saw. None of the soldiers were moving regularly; this outcrop must have been something of a leisure spot. Only one or two refilling a canteen. The only possible sign of suspicion she'd seen had been a man staring at the ridges, maybe for birds.

"Clear."

West made his way to a wide brim of stone covered by a tall rock, and Alaska did the same.

She leaned against the bumpy edge of rock. She slid down a bit, breathing heavily.

"Who'd've guessed that climbing in power armor would be such a bitch?"

West gave her something of a laugh and peeked out from the stone barrier.

Static entered their ears. "We're fine so far." Del. "Potential sniper's nests, low-activity. Hawaii found us a nice path. Likely unnoticed so far. Continuing to objective."

"Affirmative," West responded. "No notice here, either. Continue."

"Clear."

The radios clicked in disconnect.

They stood in the shaded crevice for a bit longer in silence.

"Can we talk?"

West looked at her over his shoulder. "Huh?"

"Talk. Just us." She turned her radio off.

"As long as we keep moving, Allie." He turned his off as well and slipped onto a thin ledge obscured by crisp grasses. She followed him at a distance.

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm doing."

"Sammy," she coaxed.

He stiffened before checking that his radio was, in fact, off. "I'm just stressed, Maya."

She took a second to scan their surroundings again. The frequency of soldiers was gradually increasing. She'd have to radio that fact after this.

"You know you're a good leader, right, Sammy?"

"Good one," he responded dryly.

She slipped around him at the next ridge wide enough to take lead. "I mean it."

"You're saying that because you're my friend."

"No I'm-" She gasped and laid her hand over her heart. "_Just_ your friend?" she teased.

"Best friend."

She grinned widely. "Damn right." She ducked under a boulder and crouched, taking another look around. Her face fell. There, at the mouth of a rough cave: distorted, moving spots.

She reestablished her radio connection. "Cease!" she shouted. "There are cloaked units positioned down there!"

Hawaii's frantic voice broke through a wall of static, just hardly. "Turn off your radios!"

Alaska returned to her scope's view, combing the area for friendlies. Her sights landed on Kansas, signaling with his hands and arms. _Activity. Motion trackers. Cover._ She gave him a thumbs up he might have been unable to see and lowered her rifle.

She looked over at West in her peripheral, who was entrenched in his own scope, to say something. Her blood ran cold as her eyes registered what was happening behind him: the unmistakable fading of active camouflage. The soldier's body was poised for strike, the patches of his body coming into sight. He held a knife, ready to plunge into his target.

Her feet crossed as she lunged at the attacker. She collided into him as the knife took its dive. It plummeted through the gap in her armor, cutting through her skin like butter.

"Alaska!" she heard West screech. She was engulfed by the burn of the blade being ripped out of her arm. She groped for the injury while the teal blur that was West deliver a swift kick. _Crack_. Hands grabbed her below her arms and gently dragged her deeper into the shade.

"Healing unit," West ordered.

Alaska looked up at him through squinted eyes. "Wha…? I'm fine…."

"Hea-ling u-nit." he repeated. He guided her through the activation. When he had crouched beside her - and when she had been laid in a lush patch of grass - she had no idea. She was far from opposed, however. She laid into it, drowsiness eating away at her consciousness.


	5. Advance

Alaska woke up to steady humming. She had almost forgotten that she'd had the healing unit modified into her armor. It wasn't as effective as it would be if she had an A.I., though it certainly did its job. She rotated her arm. Sore but functional. She inched herself over to the assailant's body and patted his body down for anything useful. A simple Magnum, nothing else fantastic. Not _on_ him, anyway; _near_ him was a different story.

She plucked his small blade from the ground, wiping away dust from the handsome hilt. It was simple, sleek, black. The steel shone even in the shade. Perhaps this had been a well-loved charm.

West stepped into the dim cover. "We need to go."

He grabbed her uninjured arm and pulled her to her feet. "They have to know we're here by now. Ten minutes have gone to your healing. You should be fine."

Alaska tested her arm and stumbled after West. It was in her best interest to push herself, for the sake of both herself and him. In many ways, she had always known him to be a control freak. He depended quite a lot on protocols and routines. And by God had they strayed far from those. Confusion was his kryptonite.

"How did he circumvent the trackers?"

"I don't know," West snapped. "And just what did you think you were doing?"

Alaska's breath hitched while she sprinted behind him. "What?"

"Your little stunt! Do you realize what could have happened if you didn't have that unit? And the blade was coated in a tranquilent no less! Hardly even _resembles_ a proper protocol!"

She glared at the back of his helmet. "Well, ex_cuse_ me! I didn't realize that mistakes weren't allowed, O Great West Virginia. Nor did I realize there was protocol FOR A SOLDIER ABOUT TO BE ASSASSINATED."

West picked up the pace of his sprint. Without a doubt, he was glaring a new hole into the canyon. Better it than her. She sucked in a breath and matched his footfalls.

"I'm sorry," she muttered plainly. He slowed down just a little bit with a glance toward her. His face must have been flushed with embarrassment, because he angled his head to the opposite side.

"Halt!" He slid into the cover of a tall bush, and Alaska followed him. He pointed down to a ridge below them, where two gray soldiers steered another. It was Hawaii that was limp between them. He wasn't moving much; his feet were dragging along the ground, practically being carried.

Alaska ran her finger along the blade she had been gripping. She looked to West, who gave her a nod of confirmation. _Go_. She dropped down to the lower ridge with her feet pounding soundlessly against the ground. She drew her arm back as she rushed towards the soldiers. There it was. There was the strike.

Right there. She plunged her arm forward. It slashed into the first soldier's neck, but only barely grazed the second's. As the first reeled, the second seized Alaska's arm and twisted it. She growled and swiftly dug her knee into his midriff. His grasp loosened, and she took her opportunity to free herself. She would have to thank Kansas for that tip later. She danced away from his heavy swings, readying her knife for another attack.

She slid under one of his kicks and tore through his stomach with her knife, leaving it embedded in his side. She shoved him into the stony wall and reached for her rifle.

Before she could finish him, bullet whizzed under her arm. It planted itself in the now-stumbling second soldier's leg. She whirled around to see the first aiming her pistol at her, barely able to hold herself up. As soon as she had registered her, though, she crumpled to the ground. A silent, solid bullet to her brain. West's handiwork. Alaska drew her own sniper rifle as she heard footfalls behind her; two sets, in fact.

She turned to face the direction of the footsteps. The second soldier's neck wrenched at an unnatural angle with a sickening crunch. He hadn't even had a chance to draw his gun. His body collapsed to reveal Hawaii's panting form. His hands were still in the air where the soldier's neck had once been. Hawaii crouched down to retrieve his own sniper rifle from the dead man, checking and holstering it.

"Hawaii," West demanded. "What happened?"

"I went ahead of my group to do my job, sir. They apprehended me, but did not reach the rest of my squad. I had been watching your encounter with the camouflaged unit when they found me." He glanced at the glinting blade that Alaska was now plucking from the stomach of the soldier with the broken neck. "I see someone got a little parting gift."

Alaska nodded. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged. "I was only caught and incapacitated by the enemy. Ultimately, the most damage I've received has been to my self-esteem," he said sardonically. "So, you know, can't complain."

West sighed.

A volley of shots drew their attention to another part of the canyon. The distinctive sound of a pair of SMGs. Kansas. Two simultaneous sniper rifle shots followed. Hopefully Tennessee and Delaware. But if not….

Alaska and Hawaii started sprinting forward, but skidded to an abrupt halt at West's command. She turned to look at him, a glare on her face. What was it going to be this time? What protocol would he have for this? Would he really begin this while their teammates were possibly dying?

West unleashed four silent bullets into the direction of the noise. "Don't go taking off without me." He scooped up the first soldier's untouched assault rifle and bolted ahead of both Alaska and Hawaii. Something in his tone made Alaska excited. It was something she heard only rarely… it was almost devilish. Far different from his typical jaded tone.

She was once more having trouble keeping up with him. She didn't know quite how she felt about West when he was like this. Perhaps if it were a less sudden transition from uptight and crabby to effortlessly blowing through the craggy canyon paths, scaling the walls of rock, and going on his own whims. Conflicting, for sure.


	6. Chapter 6

Alaska's breath caught in her chest as she scrambled along the ledges, trying to keep up with West. Hawaii panted for his own behind both of them. Her feet crossed over themselves, causing her to stumble. Hawaii glanced at her as he passed.

"You good?"

"I'm fine," she said dismissively. "We just need to get to the others."

He barely spared any more of his gaze for anything that wasn't the rocky ground after his arm slammed into a jutting rock. Alaska easily caught up with - and passed - him again with her long strides and crashing footsteps.

West's hand flew across her chestplate, cutting her short. He pressed himself against the rock wall of the shady crevice they'd been sprinting along, peering out at the sun-bathed battleground. Shots were still flying. She mirrored how he was against the wall, and Hawaii did so as well once he caught up. She detached her sniper rifle, almost cradling it. West finally turned around to address them.

"Tenn and Del are up there. Holed in. Four enemies trying to get them out."

"And Kansas?" she asked.

Hawaii was now crouched and examining the scene for himself with his scope. "Judging by the yellow blurs and the streams of bullets," he responded, "he's holding himself just fine for now."

West tossed a muffler to Hawaii and adjusted the one on his own rifle. "Move up to me, Hawaii. Alaska, get moving. Stay covered." He pointed at a gap in the crevice leading to a flora-entangled path up to the area the assault was taking place.

She nodded and proceeded accordingly. She dragged herself on her hands and stomach through the tall foliage, only stopping to look at the situation above. Before she was even halfway along the way, she saw the barrage that was the sharpshooting of West and Hawaii; bodies dropped as other soldiers shouted.

"Dammit!" came one screech.

"Cover me," barked another.

"I would if I could," sneered the first, "but I don't think even a _wall_ could protect such a big target!"

"Rescind that last order. Stay as still as you like while I pay our guests a visit."

Alaska wasn't confident that their kind host was rushing in her direction to extend the offer to take her helmet off and have a bit of tea. She froze behind a flowering bush, waiting for the crashing footsteps to come nearer… nearer… just a little more….

Then. There! The oncomer's leg hit the ground in slow motion before her. She could see the dust and pebbles and bits of grass flying at the impact. Her arm jabbed through the underbrush, clamping around his ankle. The man hurtled into the ground, a gray and white blur, as time broke out of its slump.

She clambered out of her leafy cover with her blade brandished. She plunged it down, but the man rolled away before it could be planted in his neck. Today was really not her day.

"Lusca!" he roared. "Advance!"

"On it, Rok!" shouted the man's partner. "The rest of you are on babysitting duty. And if I come back and that yellow asshole isn't on the ground, at least one of you is going to be _in_ the ground."

Alaska yanked her knife from its dusty grave as the man called Rok charged at her. She barely had time to stand straight before his large body flew into her. Her back slammed into the ground. If nothing else, at least she got a nice crack out of it. Her sniper rolled from her back, and she snatched it up to ram it into Rok's helmet. It landed square in the middle of his silvery visor, causing him to tumble to the ground.

She fumbled to aim her rifle at him. He looked up and scrambled to his feet as she squeezed the trigger. He yelped while scurrying for cover. He found it before Alaska's sights could pinpoint him. _Fuck_. She rushed to find shelter of her own. Bullets from a battle rifle chased her, grazing her armor. She propped the long barrel of her rifle atop the rock she had ducked behind to look for her target.

There was nothing. Just scenery. She couldn't even see bits of him poking out from the crag he'd hid inside of. The only thing moving were clouds of dust. _Where did that bastard go_?

_Snap_.

She swiveled her scope towards the sound. The crunch of a branch. A branch that was under a shimmering in the air. Bull's-eye. She pumped out three bullets into the camouflaged figure, each hitting without a doubt. Blood splattered from the man, his camouflage dissipating at each shot. He fell on his back with bullets in his leg, his chest, and his neck. Dead. But a cold feeling sunk in her stomach like lead. Something was wrong.

Sharp pains entered her back. Burning, searing, and burrowing into her skin. She howled as she felt hot blood pooling at her back, keeling to her knees. And there, was hunched over, she saw it: a gray and white soldier with a silver visor standing over her. It was fucking Rok. She fell right into his ploy.

Normal Insurrectionists weren't usually this clever. Nor did they wear the colors or armor adorned by this man. This was a merc.

Her hands shook while she hastily took aim at him. The barrel trembled with every little twitch she made from her staggered breathing. She pulled the trigger.

The bullet dug into Rok's fingers. He screeched while his battle rifle clattered to the ground as well as… three… gray and white little bits of armor? She squinted at them. She instantly regretted it as she realized what they were.

"You BITCH," he hollered. He cradled his hand to his chest. Blood flowed freely from the spots that were once full digits. Alaska took his distraction to reload her rifle and take aim once more.

"Stay still, bastard."

He looked up at her and cloaked himself, but little clouds of dust and drops of blood betrayed his otherwise hidden footsteps as he ran away. She tried to pull herself up to follow his path only to be met with the burning of bullets under her skin. She hissed and layed back down. She reached for her back, feeling around for them; she'd need to take them out before she healed herself. They may have pierced her skin, but they couldn't have gotten too far inside thanks to the bodysuit. She plucked them out one by one in the cover of shady bushes.

She staggered to her feet with her unit active. Rok was long gone now, and so was the gunfire from before. She paced her way to the ridge the others had been at. The corpses of Insurrectionists littered the ground. The scene just wasn't right with how sunny and clear the day was, nor with how many vibrant and lovely plants snaked around the canyon. She stepped over lifeless limbs while searching for her squad members.

"Kan?" she called. "Nessie? Del?"

"Alaska?"

She turned to face the responder: a shorter man in yellow and white armor who was crawling out from behind a boulder. She sighed in relief and rushed over to him.

"Do you know what happened to the others, Kan?"

He nodded. "Taken. Turns out where they were holed up was the cave entrance we were supposed to investigate. Del and Tenn got pincered."

West and Hawaii ran up to them.

"How's your speed unit doing, Kan?" asked West. "Alaska, your healing?"

They confirmed their units were working fine and Kansas caught them up to speed.

"So, they're gone?" West said.

"Probably back to their base," added Hawaii.

"Mother_fucker_," growled West. His fist found a rock jutting out of the wall, leaving bits of it flying.


End file.
